I'm gonna walk on forever (As long as I'm with you)
by Happle
Summary: Just a little, fluff/Dean feels-thing... For a Christmas-calendar with some friends :) turns out I actually like it in the end ;) Takes place after the 5th season - without soulless Sam. Rated T because Dean likes swearing and so do I. Dean/Cass SLASH fic!


The world was all the same (you know all the monsters and the other evil sons of bitches), the angels had been quiet for a while – too busy fighting each other up in haven to give a shit about earth or hell – and Lucifer was banished in his cage again – the only difference? Sam was down there too (Yeah, no fantasies-come-true soulless Sammy kickin' asses outside – Deans mind made him wondering how fucked up he was sometimes, but never mind) and Dean was on his own like he'd never been. It was fucking lonely, but well, he was a damn Winchester and he kept going, because well, what options did he have exactly? So he kept swinging the knife, burning bones, driving around and killing evil in general. Of course he had those "family-dinner-fantasies" sometimes, but come on he would be exploding eating apple-pie, sitting around doing nothing – or playing golf or something – while he knew some vampire was sucking some poor kid dry and a demon was wearing someone to prom. Besides he was a damn genius-hunter so fuck it!

That way months faded in the same routine, driving – killing – sleeping – driving … Some days Bobby would check on him just to make sure he was still alive and well (the definition was slightly different than on normal circumstances … but what was normal for them anyway?), some days Dean caught himself speaking to an Sam-empty space and every day he realized what a big fuck-up he and his life was. Well, he obviously won on the lottery of bad fortune. The more months went by, the more Dean distanced himself from like everything – therefore December came snow and all without him noticing and as a Lady in a shop he shot a werewolf to death in said "Well, I guess you saved Christmas! Thank you and get out." it was like a slap in the face – it was fucking Christmas! The first Christmas without Sammy _somewhere_ around and he hadn't even noticed. The loneliest Christmas of his life. And he couldn't stand being with people – instead he took off and drove on and on deep inside the woods away from all the people he didn't know, away from everything civilized, away from all the lights and happy songs, away from everything that wasn't Sam at all...

He was sitting on a tree's stump, Whiskey in one hand, the other one drawing random patterns on his knee. Through the open windows of the Impala swelled the sound of Christmas songs and he sighed. Honestly? He felt like crap. All the Christmas-shit - he just hated it, but at the same time he couldn't bring himself to shut it off. It kind of remembered him of good old times, now lost to the world. Sammy would have said "Stop blaming yourself, stop being self-destructive as hell", but, well, there was no Sam. So screw it.

Dean had thought about driving to Bobby's, being around a person he knew and loved like a family, but he wasn't able to do it. Be with people. Maybe he did Bobby wrong and the old hunter was worried out of his mind in the moment, through he couldn't bring himself to get up and drive straight to South Dakota. It wasn't happening. Not tonight.

So he'd just sit there, in the middle of a fucking forest, in the fucking snow and get fucking drunk. Self-pity? Hell yeah - all of it please. Besides, he definitely had worse days some point in his life and the alcohol was sure to burn the night out of his brain anyway. Awesome. A Christmas like every god damn year. He took another sip of the liquid and swallowed hard.

The sound of flapping wings made him jump - not to mention the simultaneously appearing sudden presence of a trench-coated-angels' hand on his shoulder, which nearly gave him a heart-attack on it's own.

"Jesus! Cass!" he snapped, his heartbeat loud in his ears "What the fuck? Get yourself a bell or something or I swear some day I'll shoot you - or myself. Or whatever."

The angel made an slightly apologetic face, his eyes all sad-puppy-style and Dean sighed.

"Why are you here, Cass? Haven't seen you since... you know the 'night of doom'."

"I was - am busy in heaven. It is all in disorder."

Dean laughed dryly "Disorder, huh? ... Yeah I can rely. So why are you here again?"

Huge eyes stared at him. Silence spread over the place and the Christmas songs seemed to get louder every second.

"You are supposed to visit your friends and family at Christmas.", it was more of a statement than anything else, a study of humanity out of Castiels mouth. The Winchester nodded.

"Yeah. That's what you're supposed to do."

"You sit in a forest."

"Yeah."

Silence again. They stared at each other.

"It's because of Sam.", again it was not a question but a conclusion, a diagnosis. Still their eyes where locked, like their life depended on it and Dean shrugged.

"Yeah." Closing his eyes and leaning back against the stock of a fir he felt something breaking inside him and his mouth started to talk and just wouldn't stop. (Humiliation – awesome!)

"It's the first Christmas with Sam in the pit and I... I just - you know how many fucked up Christmases we had? Hell I can't remember one we did properly without any fucking god we had to kill or vampire we had to slice to peaces. One with dad and... Cass I threw the damn necklace away! I fucking threw it away just because I was so angry with ... like everything. It was the best present I ever got. Like ever. It was a part of Sammy. I... did you see his face? The pain? Fuck! I..." Dean ran a hand over his face. It was trembling. "It's not fair. What am I supposed to do now? I mean I screwed everything up! My responsibility - all I was supposed to do I screwed! ... I - I'm not even a big brother anymore, let the only constant thing - the only thing I care about since... Fuck! I let him jump in the pit in a fucking self-sacrifice!... I just ... don't care about anything anymore. I'm - an empty vessel. I'm just... so alone, I -"

And then he broke. His body trembled and shook and a tear rolled down his cheek, soon followed by others. He made no sound, just closed his eyes, his head pressed against the solid tree behind him, his mouth a bitter line.

"You're not alone" Castiel whispered quietly and so honest it kind of hurt. And then there were Castiels arms around his body in the most awkward, stiffest and nicest hug all the same. They stayed a mass of body and clothes until Deans body stopped shaking and his breath calmed down. Surprised he glared inside those blue eyes he knew so well and looked so pained that moment and managed a small, awkward smile.

"Uh... Thanks, Cass."

The angel returned the smile and nodded.

"Five minutes." the dark haired man sad, giving him a somewhat careful glare – and then he was gone and all Dean managed was a dry laugh.

Well here he were, sitting in the forest alone, waiting for an "angel of the (not anywhere present) lord" - arching for his presence like some lonely wreck (oh wait! - totally achieved by now) and a hair's length away from falling apart again.

Exactly five minutes later there was the light sound of a bell and Cass reappeared out of thin air, a small bell in his hand. Something warm spread inside Deans guts and he smiled. Just a tiny bit. Carefully the angel sat down beside the Winchester.

"You humans are supposed to have a tree and presents." he asked uncertain "Don't you?"

Dean nodded "Yeah. That's what we're supposed to have, I guess." He looked up. A small plastic tree stood in the middle of the snow, all colors and lights and sparkling with all the snow-crystals and stuff and Dean laughed. It was an ugly tree, ugly as hell to be precise, but it remembered him of the last Christmas with Sam - the decorations (also ugly as hell), the presents and that all that really mattered had been the two of them. Together. At Christmas-Eve... He had to admit with the glittering all around he felt somewhat nice and warm.

Without another word, Cass held out his hand - in the air hang his necklace, Sammy's necklace, and shined in the light. It was filled with black grease and he was positive that it was a little bit melted out of shape at some point, but it was his necklace. Slowly he touched it, held it in his hand, like he wouldn't believe it was a real thing. Then he pulled it over his head and placed the pendant at his heart, right where it belonged.

"Merry Christmas." Cass smiled shyly, still eying him carefully. This time Dean was the one hugging the angel tight, burying his face in the other man's shoulder. Silently he said:

"Thank you... For everything."

And he hoped that it would do it - express everything he really was grateful for: For Castiel staying beside him, not leaving him alone by himself, for bringing him a ridiculous ugly tree just to cheer him up and for giving him the only present on earth, heaven and hell he wanted, cared about, the only thing that could probably help him. For knowing exactly what to do.

They spent the evening drinking miraculously appeared eggnog together, listening to Christmas songs on the radio, telling Christmas stories (okay that was mostly on Dean's part) and listening to the game. As it was getting later and later, the tree got the only light in the forest, seemed to get the only one in the whole world, and it shone even brighter...

Dean woke up the next morning, his head lying in Castiels lap, the trench-coat over his body keeping him warm and comfortable, the necklace in his hand and the angel's fingers slowly moving threw his hair. And not being alone. And not feeling empty or shattered but warm and whole. A smile plastered itself on his lips and he snuggled closer to the angel.

"Merry Christmas, Cass." he whispered softly.


End file.
